You're Pretty F----ing Great, Man
by RightWriteWright
Summary: Adam, Ronan, Blue, and Gansey are in their late 20s, and life is pretty perfect, but old worries and insecurities creep up as they tackle marriage, parenthood, and life after Glendower. When Adam and Ronan are asked to foster two twin boys named Noah and Niall, will it open old wounds? (Rated a strong T for Ronan's language, because it's Ronan.)
1. Prequel

**A/N: This is an unfinished prequel, but it sets the tone and provides some helpful information for the actual story. I'll probably finish this at some point.**

"We're gonna' be parents," Adam breathed, the shock almost too much for him to handle. "A week from now, we're gonna' bring her home.

Ronan sat across the kitchen table from him in stubborn silence. It didn't faze Adam.

"What are we gonna' call her?" he asked, more to himself than to Ronan. "She's just a baby. We can call her whatever we want. She's _ours_, Ro."

Ronan didn't say anything. Instead, he glanced around the kitchen table and picked up a scrap of paper and a pen. Unfazed—as if he were writing a grocery list instead of contemplating the name of his child—he scribbled a word on the paper and slid it across the table to Adam. Slightly confused, Adam picked it up.

"Ayse-lin?"

"No, dipshit," Ronan scoffed. "It's Irish. It's pronounced 'Ash-lin.'"

"It's nice. I like it."

"It means 'dream.'"

Adam's smile grew. "I love it."

Ronan nodded in agreement.

"Aislin Aurora Lynch," Adam said, half to himself and half to Ronan, testing the sound of their daughter's name on his lips. Adding Aurora was Adam's doing. He knew Ronan was too selfless to suggest it himself, but using Aurora Lynch's name for their daughter had always been something he wanted.

Ronan raised his eyebrows. "Lynch-Parrish," he corrected Adam.

"I'm not passing my name on," Adam spat, not keeping the disgust from his voice. "I don't want any kids of ours to be associated with my family."

Ronan rolled his eyes. "They're not going to be associated with your family. They're going to be associated with you. And you're pretty fucking great, man."


	2. Chapter 1

"Oh. Okay, thank you. Yes, I'll call you back this afternoon. I know—I'll try."

Adam Parrish hung up the kitchen phone with sweaty palms. He wasn't sure what was racing faster, his heart or his mind. He gripped the edge of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he thought he might be sick.

Because in that moment, he wasn't at The Barns looking out into a perfect green summer pasture dotted with grazing cows. His husband and daughter weren't playing in the living room. He was back in the trailer in Henrietta, backed into the corner of his parents' insufferably small kitchen/living room, as Robert Parrish wailed into him. He was falling off the porch as Robert pushed him down and deafened his left ear. He was standing in the courtroom practically shaking as he waited for the judge to speak.

But he _was _in the kitchen of The Barns. He _was _looking out at the pasture where the cattle grazed. If he looked closely at the edge of the forest, he was almost certain he could see herd of deer that lived on the property. And Ronan _was _in the living room. He was only a few feet away, having a tea party with their three-year-old daughter, Aislin.

Adam used this image to calm himself. Ronan—tough, cold, and fearless on the outside—was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Chainsaw the raven on his shoulder and a miniature teacup in his hand. He had refused to wear the feather boa Aislin had offered him but compromised by draping is across his lap.

Ronan was real.

Aislin was real.

They were his life now.

Not the trailer.

That was getting easier for Adam to remember now. The nightmares were fewer and farther between the longer he stayed at The Barns. There were still moments where if felt unreal, though. Sometimes he would catch himself thinking how a hick from a trailer park could end up in the lap of luxury with a man who loved him. How could the scholarship kid who used to be made fun of for wearing the wrong jeans, who had to work himself dead just to pay for school, end up never having to worry about money again? What did he ever do right to deserve _any_ of this, let alone all of it?

He cut the faucet on and splashed cold water on his face to clear his mind. With one last deep breath, he left the kitchen.

Adam appeared in the doorway of the living room. Ronan, Chainsaw, and Aislin were just as he had left them, though more of Aislin's stuffed animals seemed to have joined the party. Adam stood quietly and watched them, in awe of how one little girl could change them so much.

It was Ronan who noticed him first, because Aislin was thoroughly engrossed in pouring imaginary tea into a cup for her teddy bear. Ronan barely flicked his gaze to Adam, but it was enough.

Ronan stood up and patted Aislin's golden brown curls, mumbling, "I need to talk to Daddy," as he went. Chainsaw hopped off Ronan's shoulder onto the coffee table and began to peck at his discarded teacup.

Adam didn't say anything as the couple made their way back to the kitchen. Ronan closed the flimsy bi-fold door that separated the kitchen from the hallway to give them the illusion of privacy.

"Who called, and why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Ronan asked gruffly.

"Nadia Klase from child services," Adam said. "She was the one who placed us with Aislin, remember?"

Ronan remembered, but he didn't acknowledge it.

Adam continued. "Ro, there are these twins. They need us. They're ten years old. Their home life isn't great. Their mom died, and their dad—beats them. The courts just got enough evidence to take them away, but they want somewhere to put them, and Nadia thought that, with my history, I—we—would be a good fit for them."

Ronan didn't say anything; he just stared at Adam, long and hard and steady. Adam couldn't read the look, but he knew Ronan understood the gravity of what he just said.

"Adam, we can't take in more kids," he finally said. "I barely know what to do with the one we have."

Adam had expected this initial reaction. Despite over a decade together, despite a successful three-year marriage, despite how great of a father he was to Aislin, Ronan still hid behind his hard exterior sometimes, especially when confronted with things he was unsure of. Adam squared his shoulders and exhaled the breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

"Ronan. Their names are Noah and Niall."

Ronan tensed. Adam saw the muscles along his jaw clench; his shoulders and biceps rippled at the sound of the names they had so long avoided saying.

"Noah and Niall," Ronan breathed, his voice rough and hoarse. Noah Czerny and Niall Lynch were dead. Had been dead. They weren't supposed to—couldn't—come back…no matter how much anyone wanted them to. And yet…

Even though he lived in a world where he knew dreams could come to life and magic literally flowed just under the surface, Ronan Lynch was hard pressed to believe in signs.

But this was a sign, as clear and blue as the afternoon sky.

He looked at Adam for another hard minute before the pitter-patter of tiny feet broke the moment. Ron an gave Adam a curt, conceding nod and tossed his cellphone at him before turning to meet Aislin at the kitchen door. Adam snatched Ronan's phone out of the air and immediately started dialing.

"Daddy? Papa?" came Aislin's little voice.

"Hey, Bug," Ronan smiled as he scooped her into his arms. "You didn't leave Chainsaw in the living room all alone with our tea party, did you?" Aislin giggled. "We better get back, or she's going to eat all our cookies."

Aislin giggled again, and Ronan shot a "I-hope-you-know-what-you're-doing-Parrish" look over his shoulder as he left.

As Adam dialed Nadia Klase's office number, he hoped he did, too.

"Ms. Klase? Adam Parrish. We can take them," Adam said breathlessly after Nadia answered. He spoke quickly, equal parts exhilarated and terrified, and ran a hand through his short dusty brown hair as they talked.

"That's fantastic news, Mr. Parrish!" Nadia chirped, sounding slightly surprised and relieved. "Can you take them tonight?"

"To—tonight?" he stuttered.

He was about to ask for another day or two when Nadia spoke.

"I thought that might be a bit much," she said. Was Adam imagining it, or could he hear disappointment in her voice? "Don't worry, Mr. Parrish. The boys can remain in federal custody until you're equipped to take them."

Adam acted hastily, and he knew he'd kick himself for it later, but for these kids—for Noah and Niall—he knew it was worth it. "No, no, no. We can take them tonight," he said. "No problem," he added a little weakly. He felt Nadia's smile through the phone.

"Great. I'm working a little late tonight, so I'll deliver them personally. Say around seven-thirty?"

"O—okay," Adam said. He was aware that he was grinning deliriously, and he was glad that this was a phone call and not a face-to-face meeting.

"The same address as before?"

"Yes ma'am."

"We'll see you then."

They hung up, and it was a full ten seconds before it hit Adam what he had agreed to. He hadn't even bothered to ask what the boys liked or if they had any medical conditions or if they even had any pajamas to wear tonight. Man, Ronan was going to be pissed.

Adam darted out to the living room for the second time that afternoon, this time more loudly, causing both Ronan and Aislin to look up.

"Ronan, can we talk?" Adam said. His Henrietta drawl was flaring up like it did when he couldn't be bothered to control it, meaning that something important was happening.

Ronan nodded.

"Be right back, Bug," he said to Aislin as he stood up.

"Agaaaaaain?" she whined.

"Yes, agaaaaaain," Ronan teased and tickled her under the chin before meeting Adam at the edge of the room.

"Noah and Niall are coming tonight Nadia is bringing them over about 7:30 I know I should have checked with you and we haven't even told Aislin yet but I couldn't risk them ending up somewhere else." Adam exhaled his speech in one breath.

"Goddamnit, Adam," Ronan swore. "Tonight?"

There wasn't anger in his tone; it harsh, but it was empty. He was exasperated at best, and Adam could tell, so rather than get defensive, Adam smiled.

"I guess I kinda' screwed up, huh?" he grinned.

Ronan returned Adam's shy smile with a wickedly sharp one of his own. "You _are _a screw up, Parrish." He planted a kiss on Adam's forehead. "But if you were anyone else's screw up, I'd probably be dead by now." He then glanced down at the cell phone that was still in Adam's hand. "Call Gansey and Blue," he said. "Have them come over. I'll have Aislin clean up her godforsaken tea party, and then we can tell her together."

This time it was Adam who nodded in response. B ut as Ronan turned to face Aislin, he couldn't help himself. Adam grabbed Ronan by the shoulder and spun him around into a kiss. It was fast and hot and hard and sweet and smoky and tender and brave and dangerous and everything that Adam and Ronan had always loved about each other.

"Thanks, Ro," Adam whispered, and he wasn't talking about the kiss.


	3. Chapter 2

Gansey's phone rang twice before Blue answered it.

"Richard Campbell Gansey III's phone. Mrs. Richard Campbell Gansey III and Baby Gansey speaking," she teased. When she had seen Ronan's number on the caller ID, she knew it had to be Adam calling. Ronan never made phone calls. They were lucky if he texted. Adam, on the other hand, was better about communicating, but he refused to get a phone of his own on the premise that he didn't want to be tied down by a piece of technology. So the man who never used his phone kept it around so the man who didn't want a phone could use it. Blue thought it was a bunch of philosophical BS, but she appreciated that one of them bothered to keep her and Gansey in the loop.

"Blue," Adam replied, and Blue heard him smile. "How are you?"

_Always the polite one, _she thought, a smile dancing on her own lips now as well. "I'm doing well, Adam, really well, actually. How are you?"

'Well' was and understatement, and 'really well' didn't cover how Blue was feeling either. At 28 she finally felt like she was hitting her stride. She looked around the bright, two-bedroom studio apartment that Gansey had bought for them years before their wedding last year. The living room was comprised of wall-to-wall bookshelves that were filled to the point of sagging, a couch, a rug, random pieces of ancient art and artifacts hanging from the walls, and papers. Papers everywhere. Sticking out of books, laying on the coffee table and the kitchen table and Gansey's old desk, and scattered across the floor. They were notes and maps and half-sketched drawings and unfinished manuscripts. Some of them were in English, and some were in Welsh, and some were odd symbols that may have had meaning at one point but now seemed like gibberish. Some of the papers were a hundred years old, and some were still wet with ink. It looked more like the home of an absentminded professor than a young, wealthy American couple.

There _were_ signs of wealth, though, if you looked closely enough. For example, you would see that every bookcase was made of the same solid, deep brown mahogany wood. The sagging brown couch was actually the finest faux suede hand stitched in Sweden. (Blue refused to have anything in the house that was real suede or leather out of her love for animals. Gansey complied by getting all their potential leather goods hand made by European artisans. It satisfied Blue's tender heart and Gansey's need to spend money.)

And the wall hangings were worth a small fortune themselves. Gansey had inherited most of them four years ago when Professor Mallory died. There was a rusty chalice caked with dirt that was believed to have belonged to a Danish king, a strikingly well-preserved silver serving platter from France, an ancient Greek theatre mask, and a moth-eaten and water-ruined Welsh tapestry featuring three women with Blue's face, among many other invaluable collectables. Gansey and Blue had donated many of Mallory's artifacts to the London Museum and the Smithsonian Institute, but there were some that Mallory had left to Gansey specifically.

The rug in front of the couch was a deep forest green embroidered with thousands of blush, lilac, periwinkle, blood orange, lemon, and crimson flowers. The edges of the rug and the corner tassels were finished with 24-carat gold coated threads. It had been a wedding present from Gansey's family and was probably worth more than Blue's entire family had ever made in their lives.

The apartment had been theirs since they were undergrads. She and Gansey had both attended the University of Virginia after high school, and even though it wasn't the Ganseys' first choice school for their son, its prestige was well known enough to maintain their shiny reputation. Maura and Calla, on the other hand, were more than thrilled that Blue had been accepted, and they almost died when she told them how many grants she had been awarded. She ended up graduating with a global studies degree and a concentration in environments and sustainability, while Gansey got his degree in Medieval and Renaissance literature. They spent the summer after graduation backpacking across Europe, Gansey seeing the birthplace of all the literature he had studied and Blue implementing all the techniques she had learned to help the locals better their lives.

They had returned to UVA that fall to start their master's degrees in anthropology and linguistics, respectfully. That was six years ago.

_We were so young_, Blue recalled.

And it was true. They finished their master's degrees nearly three years ago, and Blue had called it quits after that. It's not that she didn't love what she had learned, but she was tired of learning. She was ready to get out and explore the world, to meet the people she had learned about.

So that's what they did. She and Gansey spent a year and a half touring the world. They spent weeks in the jungles Costa Rica and the mountains of Peru and a whole summer island-hopping in the Mediterranean. They spent time in Kenya, China, Japan, and Australia and New Zealand, and a month each in Iceland, Sweden, and England. It was while they were walking through the Welsh countryside that Gansey proposed. With the rolling green hills and distant purple mountains as a backdrop, Gansey only had to get down on one knee for Blue to start nodding.

"You know, in a lot of ways, my story started right here in Wales," Gansey had said. And it wasn't his polished 'Mr. President' voice. It was Gansey the scholar. Both sides of Gansey were smooth, charismatic, and could sell a car to a bird, but when the latter spoke, there was passion burning behind his eyes. He was alight and unfettered and genuine, and this was the Gansey that proposed to Blue. She respected Mr. President, but she loved Gansey.

"This is where Glendower lived and where he died," he had continued. "He's the one who brought me to Henrietta—and to you. And you have been my greatest find, Blue. I traveled the world before I met you. I'd seen it all. I'd seen this field before. But I didn't appreciate any of it until this trip. You help me see things, Blue, really see them. Before, I was looking for something. I thought it was a dead king or a miracle or glory. But what I was really looking for was purpose. I wanted to be more than 'Richard Campbell Gansey III,' more than the son of a senator. And you've let me be that. You've let me be who I should have always been if I had been brave enough to break away from the politics of my name. You gave me purpose, Blue. You gave me reason. And I would be honored, Blue Sargent, if you would be my wife."

Blue was crying openly by then, and she practically jumped on Gansey to kiss him. Being able to kiss him freely was Blue's biggest blessing. Apparently the powers-that-be hadn't banked on Blue's true love coming back to life after she killed him with a kiss, and ever since Gansey's (second) death experience, neither Maura nor Calla nor any other psychic east of the Mississippi could predict that Blue's kiss would kill her true love (again), so she and Gansey had made up a lot of lost kisses in the days and months and years that followed.

Their wedding had been just a little over a year ago, about a year after Gansey had proposed. It was a small ceremony—so, so small—and Blue had been sure that her mother-in-law would have protested. She did, but she had given in pretty quickly when Gansey had promised her she could be responsible for planning a large reception for them after their honeymoon.

They got married at sunset in the field behind The Barns. The October evening was crisp and cool with a slight breeze but not a cloud in the sky. Blue wore a white dress she had found in Persephone's closet. It was an off-white sheath gown with alternating layers of Chantilly and Venice lace. It had loose lace sleeves that brushed her elbows and a deep V-neck. She had cancelled every dress salon appointment after she discovered it. She carried a bouquet of red and orange snap dragons and sunflowers while Gansey wore a smart charcoal suit and a burgundy tie.

Blue walked herself down the aisle on her wedding day while her mother, Calla, Gansey, Adam, and Ronan waited for her at the altar of wildflowers. The only other guests were Gansey's mother, father, and sister, Blue's Aunt Jimi and cousin Orla, and the Gray Man. Adam and Ronan's daughter, Aislin, was the flower girl. Blue's father, Artemis, had disappeared again, and hopefully for good, and Gwenllian had a bizarre episode and locked herself in her room the week before the wedding. Blue wasn't terribly upset by it.

The reception had taken place under a white event tent in The Barns' backyard. Ronan had re-dreamed another ORBMASTER that provided the only light. There were twelve people, a toddler, and two tables under the tent, and it looked more like a family dinner than a wedding, but both Blue and Gansey agreed that any more people would have made it feel forced—or worse, diplomatic. This was Blue and Gansey surrounded only by people they cared about and who cared about them and nothing else. And that was exactly how they had wanted it.

The reception Gansey's mother planned was another story entirely. The Gansey family mansion was packed with senators and their families, past, present, and prospective business partners, colleagues and friends of Mr. Gansey, Helen's friends, people from Gansey's childhood (some who were Blue and Gansey's age and some who were much older), the list went on and on. Blue was introduced to so many people that she was dizzy, and her face hurt from smiling. Gansey, however, had looked completely in his element. The easy way he smiled at guests and laughed at their jokes and made them feel like they were best friends reminded Blue just how different their worlds had been growing up. But, then again, this wasn't her Gansey. Her Gansey was so much more than a pretty face and a charming smile. Her Gansey was an insomniac, a fierce friend, a scholar, a learner, a romantic, a brilliant negotiator, a boy burdened with dreams of a purpose. He could play the businessman, but they both knew that he could never be confined to a life behind a nameplate, even if that nameplate read 'CEO.'

But they had survived. They had gotten more blenders and crockpots than they could ever possibly use, and they had later distributed them amongst friends, family, and soup kitchens, but they had survived, and their marriage had only gotten better since. Gansey started his Ph.D. in history at UVA the spring after the wedding, and it wasn't strange for him to come home from class with his eyes sparkling. Unlike Blue, he enjoyed the very act of learning and wanted to cram as much knowledge inside his head as possible. Plus, 'Dr. Gansey' had an inarguably pleasant ring to it.

And then, just six weeks ago, Blue had discovered that she was pregnant. Gansey had taken the news well, all things considering. It had come as quite a shock to both of them. They weren't planning on having kids for another few years. After the initial shock had come the excitement and then the terror. That ebbed and flowed a little as time passed. Some days were more exciting than terrifying; others were more terrifying, and still others were just overwhelming, but they were taking it all in stride, and everyone around them was equally supportive and excited. Even Calla, who couldn't be bothered to be happy about much, seemed to be enjoying the idea of being an aunt.

So, overall, Blue was doing better than 'well.' She was fantastic. Ecstatic. On cloud nine.

And she knew that Adam had to be doing well, too. She and Gansey had just celebrated his and Ronan's third anniversary with them a little more than a month ago. Aislin was adorable as always and would be starting preschool in the fall. So she wasn't sure what to expect when Adam called. She certainly wasn't expecting what he said next.

"Ronan and I are fostering a set of twin boys, and they're being dropped off tonight. Would you and Gansey mind coming over and helping us get things ready?"

Blue's jaw dropped a little, but she recovered quickly. "Adam, that's awesome! Let me get Gansey. He's in his office. We'll be right over."

"Thanks, Blue. See you soon."

Blue hung up and practically scampered over to the apartment's second bedroom that had been converted into an office for Gansey. The office was an extension of the living room. Three of the four walls were bookshelves, leaving just enough room to keep from barricading the door. The fourth wall was made up of a window that looked out at a rather large birch tree and a heavy oak desk that was perpetually covered with loose-leaf paper and coffee cups. When Blue entered, she found her husband surrounded by a circle of ancient-looking books on the silvery carpet. He wore deceptively expensive denim jeans and an impeccable lilac button down shirt that had become slightly rumpled from sitting and bending over. He didn't even look up when the office door opened: the scholar-historian-scientist in his natural habitat.

After a few seconds, Gansey felt Blue's presence, looked up at his wife, and beamed. Blue tiptoed around Gansey's books and looped her arms around his shoulders.

"What are you reading?" she whispered.

"I had a thought during class today," Gansey grinned, not bothering to hide his excitement. "I wanted to trace the depiction of traditional Arthurian characters through Europe and see how it varied by country and time period. It's positively titillating."

"Mmmmmm…titillating, huh?"

Gansey smiled. "Almost as titillating as you."

Blue knelt down and rested her chin on Gansey's shoulder. He turned his head so he could kiss her cheek, and Blue felt her stomach flip. If this went on much longer, they'd be rolling around on Gansey's books.

Blue turned her face and allowed her lips to meet Gansey's just once before mustering all her self-control and pushing herself to her feet.

"As much as I'd like to have sex with you right now—" she lamented, "—and you know how much I love having sex with you—we have somewhere to be tonight."

Gansey looked up at her with furrowed eyebrows,

"That was Adam on the phone," Blue explained. "He and Ronan are fostering twins, and they're coming in…tonight. Needless to say they need our help."

"They're crazy!" Gansey exclaimed, spring to his feet. His words were disapproving, but his eyes were bright, and his smile was brilliant. He kissed Blue's forehead before making for the office door. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to her, still grinning. "Well, shall we?" He gestured grandly out the door, and Blue laughed.


	4. Chapter 3

When Adam emerged into the living room, he saw what having Aislin "clean up her godforsaken tea party" really entailed: Aislin carrying one stuffed animal to her room, and Ronan carrying the other ten or so. Adam took several of the animals from Ronan, including a rather large panda that was obstructing his view.

"They're on their way," Adam said. Ronan snarled in response.

Aislin held her bedroom door open for her dads, who set her stuffed animals down—Adam gently and Ronan less-than-so. The men exchanged looks, Ronan deferring to Adam.

"_You got us into this, Parrish. You can explain it to her," _his eyes said.

Adam shrugged and nodded.

"Hey, Ash," he said. (Ronan cringed. He hated the nickname Adam had given their daughter.) Aislin looked up from where she was carefully arranging her animals back on their shelf. "Come sit with me."

Adam sat down on Aislin's bed and waved her over. As Aislin crawled into his lap, Ronan took a seat next to them.

"Daddy and Papa have something to tell you," Adam continued carefully.

Aislin was unfazed. "Okay," she chirped. "What?"

Adam glanced at Ronan for support, but his husband's eyes were unyielding. "Well, we're going to have a few…guests…coming in tonight," Adam started.

Aislin's eyes lit up. "Aunt Blue and Uncle G?" she asked hopefully.

Adam smiled and shook his head. Ronan snorted. "They're coming to visit, but the guests I'm talking about are staying for…a while," Adam continued. "They're boys. Their names are Noah and Niall, and they're a little older than you. They're ten years old."

"That's seven years more than me," Aislin said matter-of-factly. "Why are they coming here?"

"They need somewhere to stay," Adam said.

"Why can't their daddies take care of them?" Aislin asked.

Adam looked nervously to Ronan and back to Aislin. He hadn't really thought his whole speech through. He hadn't had time to.

"Well, sometimes, boys and girls don't always have two mommies or two daddies or a mommy and a daddy that love them," Adam started. "Sometimes, parents don't have enough money to take care of their kids, because they don't have jobs or because their kids are really sick or because _they're_ really sick."

"And, sometimes, parents are just jackasses and don't deserve to be parents," Ronan muttered. Adam hissed at him to be quiet.

"Or sometimes really bad things happen, and some kids' parents die," Adam finished. "And we don't know what happened to Noah and Niall, but we do know that they need people to take care of them and love them for a little while, and so they're going to come here and stay in Aunt Blue and Uncle Gansey's room."

Aislin looked carefully up at Adam and Ronan, her green eyes curious.

"How do you feel about having brothers, Aislin?" Ronan asked, half-smirking. Adam knew exactly how Ronan felt about his own brothers, Declan and Matthew. Declan and Ronan hadn't spoken in years, and neither was upset about it. Matthew, on the other hand, was perfect—Ronan's absolute favorite person—and he wasn't even real. He was a dream thing that three-year-old Ronan had created to replace his less-than-satisfying older brother. For Adam, he was more curious as to how _Ronan_ would react to having the two brothers in the house than he was about Aislin.

After another minute of processing, Aislin smiled. (She was so very much like Adam that it unnerved him at times.)

"Okay," she agreed. "But Aunt Blue has to stay. There are too many boys here already."

Adam and Ronan both laughed out loud as Adam kissed the top of Aislin's head and put her down on the floor.

It was only about ten minutes after their talk with Aislin that Adam and Ronan heard the front door open. They were sitting on the couch, Adam's head on Ronan's chest, and Adam felt Ronan stiffen and his heartbeat speed up as the door opened.

"It's just Blue and Gansey," Adam reassured him, putting a hand on Ronan's knee. Ronan relaxed when he realized he was right.

Just then, Gansey's voice bellowed from the front hallway, further confirming his presence.

"Where's my favorite little girl?" he called, obviously indicating Aislin.

A faint squeal could be heard from the other side of the house followed by the pattering of feet as Aislin raced from the playroom into Gansey's arms.

"Uncle G!" she shrieked, and moments later, Blue led the threesome into the living room, Gansey holding a beaming and babbling Aislin on his hip.

"And Daddy and Papa said I'm gonna get _two_ brothers!" she was exclaiming as she shoved two chubby fingers under Gansey's nose.

Gansey grinned at his niece and glanced at his two friends on the couch. "Really?" he exclaimed in mock surprise. "Do you think Daddy and Papa can handle _two_ more kids? Aren't you enough trouble for them?" His words were playfully directed at Aislin, but his message was clear: Adam and Ronan were crazy. Thankfully, everyone present already knew that.

Aislin giggled. "No, I'm the best. Daddy always says so."

"Of course he does," Blue smiled as she tickled the little girl's side. Then, turning to Adam and Ronan, added, "Okay, boys, what's the plan?"

All eyes were on Adam: Blue's excited brown ones, Gansey's skeptical blue ones, Aislin's innocent green ones, and Ronan's snarky dark ones. And Adam didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"Um, Noah and Niall are going in the guest room," he said.

"Noah and Niall?!" Gansey spluttered, momentarily losing his usual composure. Blue blinked twice as her jaw fell. Adam shrugged. Ronan grimaced. They were all thinking the same thing.

"Creepy, huh?" Adam said.

"I come from a family of _psychics_, and even_ I _think that's weird!" Blue exclaimed. Noticing the concern that crossed Adam's face, she quickly changed her tone. "_But_, I come from a family of psychics, so I can honestly say that these boys were meant to cross your path," she said. Quietly, she took Gansey's free hand. "Just like we all were."

Adam's thanks read on his face, but Ronan had had too much sentimentality for the day.

Ronan jumped up from the couch and started pacing through the living room. "Alright, let's get started before we start singing fu—" he stopped himself short of cursing, for Aislin's sake "—_freaking_ Kumbaya or something." Blue rolled her eyes but didn't comment as Ronan started barking out instructions: "Adam, call Klase and _learn _something about these kids: what size clothes they wear, what they like, if they're allergic to peanut butter or begonias or laundry detergent or whatever, if one of them's a serial killer—and don't come find me until you have something to go on."

Adam nodded, unconcerned by his husband's gruffness, stood up, and reached for Ronan's phone in his back pocket. His hand lingered there a few seconds longer than it should have, and everyone—including Ronan—noticed. To anyone else, it would have looked like he didn't miss a beat, but Gansey and Blue could tell that Ronan was having a harder time focusing now.

"Blue, as soon as Adam has some details, you two can go shopping. Take Aislin with you."

Blue nodded amiably, grinning at Adam, Aislin, and her faintly visible baby bump in turn. "We'll look like a cute, heterosexual family!" she laughed.

"We _are_ a cute, heterosexual family," Gansey reminded her teasingly, putting Aislin down and wrapping an arm around Blue's waist. Blue playfully swatted at his shoulder.

"Gansey, you can start moving stuff out of the guest room where the boys will be. Most of it's your shit anyway."

"Language, language, Papa," Gansey scolded, but he started walking toward the staircase anyway. "Jane, you want to come with me and help me figure out what we can take home?"

Blue chuckled. Gansey only ever used his old nickname for her when they were with Adam and Ronan. But she knew Gansey wouldn't be able to sort through all of their various possessions that lived at The Barns without her, so she obliged and took his hand as they climbed the stairs.

"I swear to God if you have sex up there now—!" Ronan called after them, but the threat went unfinished.

"Wouldn't be the first time!" Gansey's melodious voice called back.

Twenty minutes later—during which Blue and Gansey did more making out than clearing out of the guest room—Adam hung up the phone and brandished an extensive handwritten list.

"Blue! I've got the list! Are you ready to go?" Adam called to the ceiling, not bothering to keep the fluttering nerves and breathless excitement out of his voice.

"Coming!" came Blue's faint reply.

Adam grabbed a coat for himself and Aislin from the rack in the hallway. He could hear her in the playroom with Ronan and Chainsaw. A few weeks from now, he imagined he'd hear her in there with Noah and Niall. Her brothers.

Adam had no way of knowing how long the agency would want them to keep the boys, but he already knew that he'd keep them forever if they'd let him. But they wouldn't go back to their father. Adam had been there. Felt every stinging blow. Heard every despicable insult. No one had tried to save him from Robert Parrish. No one except Blue and Gansey. And Ronan. There was always Ronan. With his healing salve and rent money and chapped lips and winding tattoos. He had saved him—with his fists and with his heart. And now it was Adam's turn to save someone.

"Ready to go shopping, Ash?" Adam asked from the doorway of the playroom. Aislin, immersed in a zombie princess coloring book, didn't look up.

"No," she shook her head.

Ronan nearly chuckled as he scooped her up: "Oh, yes you are. Let's go."

"Papa!" she squealed. "I'm not done with my picture!"

"Who's going to help me pick out clothes then?" Blue asked from the doorway.

Aislin stopped and looked at Blue, a look of sheer joy on her face. She squirmed out of Ronan's arms and scurried over to her aunt.

"Come, on, let's meet Daddy at the car," Blue suggested, gently taking Aislin's jacket from Adam and nudging the preschooler toward the door. Finally, Adam and Ronan were alone.

"So," Ronan said.

"So."

"You've really done it, Parrish," Ronan smirked.

"I know."

"Are you ready for this?"

"I think so. Are you?"

"No."

Adam froze. "Ronan—"

"I have never been ready for one damn thing that's ever happened to me: my dad dying. Dreaming. Kavinsky. Cabeswater. Matthew and Opal and my mom. Gansey. Noah. Glendower. It's all been hell."

Adam dropped his gaze to the floor.

"And then there was you," Ronan continued. "And Aislin. And I sure as hell wasn't ready for any of that. I love you both so much that it hurts. It fucking hurts, Par—Adam. It's taken me so long to figure out to love you and Aislin the way that I want to, and now you're asking me to love two complete strangers in the same way. But they're going to hate me, because—"

"Ronan, they're not going to hate you," Adam said.

"I haven't even seen them yet, and all I can see is _you_!" Ronan exclaimed. "You, Adam! On the porch of that goddamn trailer while your asshat father beats the shit out of you. And you were so scared and so resigned and so goddamn _proud_. And I think about how I hit him. And hit him. And I don't even know if I'm any better than him anymore. And—what if I hit them?"

Adam looked long and hard into Ronan's eyes, the eyes that always seemed so dark and cold to the rest of the world. But Adam saw every emotion that crossed them, no matter how fleeting. He saw the uncertainty that always boiled just beneath the surface. He saw the compassion, the courage, and the love. And, right now, he saw the fear. And, suddenly, Adam was violently angry at the world that could have caused someone so good so much pain and make them doubt their goodness for so long that they actually believed they were capable of terrible things.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Adam snarled. "You are not my father. You would never hurt me or Aislin, and you sure as hell aren't going to hurt these boys. The world fucked us over, Ronan. Both of us. And it fucked us up bad. And it's trying to do the same thing to these kids. But you saved me that night at the trailer and every night after that, and we're going to save Noah and Niall tonight. Nothing is ever going to hurt them again. Not while they're with us. Especially not you. So drop the pity party."

Ronan set his face and raised his hand like he was going to sock Adam in the jaw, but Adam met his gaze and didn't flinch. Not anymore. Instead of the sharp pain of a fist to the face, Adam felt that strong hand wrap deceptively gently around the base of his neck and pull him in. And with all the force he didn't put into a punch, Ronan crashed his mouth against Adam's in a kiss, his free hand instinctively going to Adam's curls.

Adam's calloused hands—the polar opposite of the impossibly smooth ones on his own neck—found the small of Ronan's back, and he pulled him in even closer until their bodies were against each other and touching in more places than not. They stayed like this for several minutes, lost in the high emotion of the day, until someone came up for air.

"I really wasn't sure if you were going to hit me or kiss me," Adam gasped, his heart thundering in his ears.

"Neither was I," Ronan panted.

Adam smiled. "Robert would have hit me and not thought twice about it."

"Have I mentioned recently that your father's an asshat?"

"And you're not him, Ronan. You love too much to ever be him."

Ronan pulled away from Adam with a curt, appreciative nod.

"You better get going, or the boys will be here before you get back," Ronan mumbled.

"And what exactly are you going to do while I'm gone?" Adam asked, his thumb still looped through Ronan's belt loop.

"Dream," Ronan replied as Adam's eyes widened. "Beds, furniture, you know. Big stuff."

"Be careful, Ro," Adam whispered.

"I will be And, besides, Gansey's here in case anything goes haywire."

"I'll be back soon," Adam told him. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Ronan whispered almost too quietly.


End file.
